


Old Soul, Young Boy

by Varianlover333



Category: RWBY
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:08:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28369641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Varianlover333/pseuds/Varianlover333
Summary: After Ozpin's secrets are out from Jinn, the group settles in at an abandoned house. With everyone asleep, Oscar decides to try to meditate to find Ozpin. He ends up finding not just Ozpin, but Ozma as well. They learn together to forgive, and maybe... just maybe... the innocence of Oscar's youth is what sets him apart from the rest, and makes him better.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Old Soul, Young Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So this is my very first ever fan fic of anything! I've read a bunch, and now I'm trying to write one too! It's just a bunch of soft, sweet moments, just because I was in a sentimental mood. I hope you enjoy it!

The darkness enveloped Oscar. He was faintly aware of the warm air around his physical body, the wind howling outside the house. He was tired, so tired, but he still had to try. His eyes on the outside were closed, but on the inside, he was acutely aware of everything that crossed his mind. The outside was fading away, and the darkness that one usually saw when you closed your eyes seemed to part way off in the distance. Ozpin was somewhere beyond that sliver of white light. It was like a door, cracked open slightly, like an invitation, but to his own mind. Oscar took a deep breathe, losing his focus for a brief moment. The sliver of light started to fade. He panicked for a moment, and it faded faster.  
Oscar took another breath, calming himself. He focused on seeing the light again, visualizing himself floating towards it. No... the light floating towards him. As it grew closer, Oscar could see it wasn't a mere crack in a door, but it seemed to be a large crack into something bigger. He wasn't sure what, yet, but it was huge. It towered above him, like the gates on a wall surrounding a city. Beyond the crack, there was only a blinding white light. Fear enveloped him. If he went in, would he be able to come out? Would he get lost, just as Ozpin had?  
Before, Ozpin had been in the darkness that lie in front of this crack. It was easier to watch, listen, and learn from there, he'd said. When Oscar had let him take control before, he had briefly considered going through this portal of mystery, but he was afraid of what lie behind. He hadn't gone in. He had watched carefully what Ozpin did with his body, not fully trusting what might happen, even though he knew Ozpin wouldn't let him get hurt... or hurt anyone else. Eventually, he had grown more comfortable with exploring further. And when Ozpin had been having the conversation about Jinn, Oscar had been the furthest he had ever been.  
He had stuck his head through the light. His mental body was still aware of his physical body, very acutely. But he could sense things that he hadn't been able to before. Memories of feelings flooded through him. Before his eyes, he could see memories playing, a lot like how Jinn had showed them, except from his point of view. Well... Ozma's past lives, he supposed. And as the feelings rushed over him, the memories from each feeling played in harmony.  
And out from the crowd of overwhelming emotions, he picked out shock and despair. He had felt this mixture before, from many memories, but this.... this was different. It had broken Oz. He latched onto this feeling, and had seen the lamp, and heard her name. And in a moment of clarity, he jerked his head out of the light and realized what Ozpin was saying. What he was doing. He was hiding things from team RWBY and JNR, and Oscar didn't like it. He had stumbled through the darkness. What had once felt like a comforting blanket around his shoulders now felt scary, like something was waiting to jump through and attack him. And he didn't like it.  
It was hard to describe what taking control felt like. It was like coming to the front of the darkness, except there was no front. There was no end to it. And yet, he knew he was there. Getting and losing control felt like a gentle nudge, except for that one time when he had been fighting Lionheart. That time, he had been in the real world, and suddenly, he was pushed into the dark recesses of his mind, Ozpin's conciousness like a force field that he couldn't quite push through. And, to be honest, he wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to. But not this time.  
He had run through the force field, breaking through as if pushing through a giant jello wall. He had forced Ozpin to share secrets that he wasn't ready to share yet, not yet fully understanding what he was even sharing. And when Jinn had shared everything, Oscar felt relief that he now knew. Almost immediately, he felt shame for feeling this, and regret that he had pushed Ozpin to share his painful past. And yet, he felt frustration. Why couldn't this all just stop? And Ozpin had disappeared, fully going into the light, and Oscar couldn't hear him, or feel him like before. Of course, he knew he was there, but only barely.  
Oscar needed him back. The teams needed him back, even if they didn't know it. Qrow needed him back, even if he didn't know it. And Oscar knew he needed Ozpin. He was lonely, and scared, and he couldn't give RWBY or JNR the guidance, leadership, and advice that they so desperately needed. He didn't have the knowledge or experience. And so, in this creepy old house, with team RWBY and JNR asleep, Qrow drinking, and Maria reading in the other room, Oscar decided to meditate, trying to reach Ozpin.  
Taking a deep, apprehensive breath, Oscar stepped into the light. His hand lingered behind him, and then, taking a leap of faith, he pulled it through, completely immersed in old memories now. Only this time, they weren't jumping around, feelings washing over him rapidly. The raging storm had calmed, and Oscar looked around. The entirety of this place was white and blank, but it was almost like rooms with different memories separated by the white emptiness. There were no walls, it was as if the memories faded into the white until it was only white. And there were rows upon rows of them. Each memory was a different reincarnation. Sometimes, a memory would change, but they were always peaceful, happy memories. Oscar walked down the rows.  
He could see so many different families, different people, reincarnations. It seemed like, since they couldn't quite die, they had found peace in their own blissful afterlife, made up of their own memories. But then, he felt something that didn't quite fit. Instead of the peace from the other memories, he sensed despair and regret. It was quiet, as if it had been pushed aside, like someone trying to find peace, but unable to forget something. And then there was a sharper, newer pain. Betrayal. Fear. Regret. He walked through the aisles of memories, guided by these two negative mixes of emotion. He came to the softer pain first. Actually, if he was honest with himself, he had walked to the softer pain first.  
He was curious. He had an idea who it came from, but he had to be sure. He knew the sharp pain came from Ozpin. And even though he had come seeking Ozpin, he was drawn to the soft aching, the wisdom that came from many lifetimes of many emotions. And when he arrived, he discovered Ozma. His memory, from the outside, seemed peaceful enough. He was with Salem, before she had turned into what she was now. They lie on the grass, on a hill, basking in the warm sunlight and fingering flowers with one hand, clasping their lover's hand with the other. Neither of them spoke, simply enjoying the moment. Reveling in the silent simplicity that they had found in each other.  
Unsure, Oscar hovered at the edge of the memory. He could still feel the soft, aching regret. The despair in knowing he would never have this again. No... That Ozma would never have this again. Standing so close, it was hard to discern if it were his own emotions he felt, or Ozma's. Or were they the same? Frustrated, Oscar gripped his head, squinting his eyes closed and panting as he tried to calm himself. He felt himself stumble into the memory, and tried to catch himself, his eyes flying open. His palms landed on soft, warm grass. He looked up, alarmed. Had they noticed him? The memory seemed to waver, blurring and rippling like a stone thrown in water. Then, it cleared, and Oscar and Ozma were alone. Salem was gone. Ozma stood up, his face etched in a knowing expression, his eyes kind. Oscar couldn't move, still panting, he couldn't breathe... Ozma knelt down beside him.  
"Oscar." His voice was the sort of voice that could command a room and still an army, yet still sound gentle. Oscar felt tears prick his eyes.  
"I-I'm sorry. I wanted to find Ozpin but then I felt you and I--"  
"It's okay. Breathe." Ozma reached a comforting hand out, resting it on his shoulder. The other hand went to stroke his hair from his face. "I'm glad you came."  
As Oscar calmed down, his breathing slowed, he looked up at the old soul. "You... are?" Ozma nodded, smiling.  
"I was lonely. It's not often someone walks down this far. Quite frankly, not many reincarnations are even brave enough to come into this section of the mind, if they even find it or not. At least, not while they're still alive. It's been a long time since I've spoken to someone else."  
"I needed someone... Ozpin left, and... I just didn't know what to do." Oscar admitted.  
"I understand. Usually, there's always someone up front, helping. Leave it to Ozpin to break the rules, I suppose." Ozma chuckled. Despite himself, Oscar smiled.  
"Yeah, from what I've heard, people often questioned his decisions." Oscar said. Ozma's face grew thoughtful, and serious.  
"And yet, he got a lot farther than a lot of lives. His methods were questionable, but he got results. Like the whole, 'tossing children off a cliff for team building'..." Ozma smiled with memory.  
"He... what?!" Oscar blinked. Ozma chuckled.  
"Yeah... We thought it was crazy, too. But it was safe. As much as he may have let others believe that it wasn't, he had cameras and fail safes, and so many precautions... And it worked. When the students thought they were really in danger and had to rely on not only themselves, but their partners to stay alive, they worked together, and they worked better." Ozma paused. "But enough about Ozpin. I want to know how you're doing, Oscar." Ozma watched Oscar, waiting patiently.  
How was he doing? Oscar wasn't sure. He was trying, he was trying so hard, but he wasn't sure what to do. He wanted to be the leader that they needed him to be, and the friend that they wanted him to be, and he wanted to give advice that was useful. He wanted to fit in, and to be responsible like an adult, like they were doing, but... He didn't want this. He wanted to be a kid. He wanted to grow up on his own terms. Rebel like a teenager, and maybe sometimes he just wanted to throw a temper tantrum, even though he was way too old for that now.  
"I..." Oscar didn't want to say this. How could he tell someone who had gone through so much pain, had worked so hard for so many centuries, that he just wanted to throw a temper tantrum?  
"You know, I spent entire lives throwing temper tantrums." Ozma smiled. Oscar looked up, startled.  
"You...?" He managed to squeak.  
"Well, I'm in your head, Oscar. I already knew what you were feeling. I just was hoping you might share. But I understand your hesitation. You want to help everyone, and you want to make everyone happy. But you are still a kid, and that's okay. And, quite honestly, you're a lot more centered and mature than a lot of reincarnations. Age doesn't make you an adult. It may make others see you as one, but it's how you react to different things that makes you mature. And sometimes, maturity is knowing when to let loose, and when to cry. When to throw a temper tantrum, and when to pull yourself together and keep moving on." Ozma smiled at this last sentence. Oscar stared at Ozma for a moment, a smile flickering on his face.  
"Thank you." He rasped, voice thick with emotion. With relief.  
"Of course, my temper tantrums included getting extremely intoxicated, which I wouldn't reccomend. It gives you a killer headache in the morning." Ozma said, smiling slightly, his eyes filled with memories. Oscar chuckled.  
"I'll keep that in mind." He smiled.  
"Now... I believe you were here for someone else. And as happy as I am that you found me, I think you should try and find Ozpin now. The night is stretching on, and you still need rest. There are still so many dangers you'll have to face, and you need to be prepared for them. And... Oscar?" Ozma, for the first time, seemed a bit unsure of himself.  
"Yes?" Oscar asked.  
"Will you send him my regards? Tell him I said hi... And that he'll get through this." Ozma seemed to change into a father, scolding a wayward son. "That he'd better get through this, because there are people that need him right now. And that you might need help finding your way out, too." Ozma said the last part as if an afternote, like something he had almost forgotten to mention. He sat there, thinking for a moment, and then nodded at Oscar with a note of finality. Oscar nodded.  
"I... I'll let him know." He shifted, awkwardly. Ozma seemed to notice his discomfort.  
"Right... That might be a bit weird, coming from you. Here. Give him this." The memory blurred, but only around Ozma's hand. A note appeared, which Ozma handed to Oscar. Oscar smiled, relieved.  
"Thank you." He stood, looking back the direction he had come. The grassy hill seemed to drop off, but instead of seeing the white corrider, he saw blue sky. It wasn't quite right, reaching down to the grass, though.  
"Oh! Oscar!" Ozma called, suddenly. Oscar turned. "I'm always here, if you need me." Ozma said, smiling. And then, suddenly, it felt the same way it did when Oscar was given control, a gentle nudge, pushing him out of the memory. But it kept going. He seemed to fly through the white corrider, past memory after memory, the nudge like a hand on his shoulder, guiding him through the maze. It felt calming.  
And just as suddenly as it had come, the nudge went away, and Oscar was left standing in front of a new memory. Ozpin's memory. It was a large, round office, and Ozpin stood at a window, a mug in his hand, watching something below, his back turned to Oscar. The bitter betrayal, fear and regret flooded his senses. And the sadness. So, so much sadness. Oscar took a deep breath and stepped through.  
The older man didn't seem to sense him there, lost in his own thoughts. Oscar shifted from foot to foot, quietly debating what to do. What if Ozpin was angry at him for breaking his boundaries? For sharing the memories? Oscar seriously considered leaving right then. He gulped. No. He had to stick this through. Everyone needed Ozpin.  
"Ozpin?" He said. He had meant for it to come out sounding stronger. Instead, he sounded lost. Unsure and scared, like a frightened child calling out for their mother when they heard a noise outside. But he was lost, and unsure, and so, so scared. He didn't know what to do. Ozpin seemed startled. He turned around, looking like a deer caught in headlights.  
"Oscar?" His voice was laced with disbelief. "How did you get here? How... did you find me?"  
Oscar opened his mouth, and shut it. Ozpin's disbelief turned to worry as he began to scold him.  
"Oscar, do you know how dangerous this was?!! It's so easy to get lost in here! What if you hadn't found me?! What if you never got back out?!" At each sentence, Ozpin's voice seemed to get a little louder. Oscar felt himself shrinking in on himself, his shoulders hunching, his arms instictively wrapping around his middle in a half-hug. The letter in his hand crinkled. Ozpin stopped mid-lecture, staring at the letter as if it were a grand treasure. Awe filled his features.  
"I'm sorry." Oscar managed, after an awkward pause.  
"Where... did you get that?" Ozpin asked, the mug in his hand shaking.  
"I found Ozma, and he said to give this to you." Oscar explained, suddenly self concious as Ozpin stared at him. He thrust his arm out, offering the headmaster the letter. Ozpin walked over, taking the letter with trembling hands, and opened it. Oscar watched as his face seemed to radiate embarrassment, and he felt embarrassed being there to witness it. Then Ozpin chuckled, which turned into a laugh, and Oscar wondered what had been said that was so funny.  
"Thank you, Oscar." He said, turning back to Oscar and folding the letter up before placing it in his pocket. His expression turned serious. "Ozma said you needed to talk to me? Are you okay?" Ozpin's face seemed to pale. "You're not... here because... you're..." Ozpin seemed hesitant to finish the sentence. Oscar looked up, alarmed.  
"Oh, no! I'm fine! I just... I wanted to tell you... I'm sorry." He felt his face twist with shame. "I invaded your privacy, and I'm sorry." Oscar studied his boots, waiting for a response. Hoping for a response. He didn't even care if it was anger. It had only been a little while without Ozpin, and he already missed his passively sarcastic remarks, his little tidbits of wisdom, just... Ozpin.  
"I know." Ozpin said. "I'm sorry, too. I didn't want to keep things from you. But... You have such a good heart, Oscar. And I was afraid if you shared this information, the others would leave. And... I couldn't have that happen. Not again. And you don't deserve this, you don't deserve for them to leave you. But I'm afraid that it was bound to come out eventually, and the longer I waited... the more you had to suffer for my mistakes. I thought people would take it out on you, and your body..." Ozpin's hand unconciously brushed against his cheek where Qrow had punched them before dropping to cradle the mug. "And I was right. And I'm sorry. I meant what I said before. These are our memories. I just... They're my burden."  
Sometime during that speech, Oscar had looked from his boots to Ozpin. He saw regret, and sadness, and fear in his eyes, and it was evident to him only because he could feel it, too. But the fear wasn't fear of failure, or betrayal. It was fear that Ozpin had let him down, had paved the road for Oscar to be hurt, and fear that Oscar would never forgive him. But Oscar already had.  
"I know. I forgive you." He said.  
He didn't say, 'it's okay', because it wasn't. None of it was, the fact that he had been dragged into this, or that there had been secrets kept from him, and still were so many being kept hidden. It wasn't okay that he was being blamed and punished for mistakes he hadn't made. But he understood, and he forgave Ozpin. He forgave everyone else, for directing their blame at him, because really, there was no one else to direct it at. Ozpin was inside of him. He wasn't fully Ozpin, not yet, but Ozpin was him. He had no one else to be now. And it was frustrating, for him and everyone involved. He still had so many questions, so many secrets he wanted to know. But he wouldn't force them out. He knew they would come out in their own time, and that was okay.  
"Thank you, Oscar." Ozpin said, his deemenor calm once again. Once again, he was the unmovable headmaster, ready to defend his school, protect his students, and give tidbits of wisdom to those who would listen. "I suppose you've been here long enough. You need to sleep. If you'll allow me, I can walk you out." Ozpin offered a knowing smile towards Oscar, the same way a father would to a son.  
"I would like that, I think." Oscar said, grinning and grabbing Ozpin's hand without thinking. Ozpin seemed to stiffen for a split second, surprised at this show of affection. Then, he relaxed, walking the boy towards the edge of the memory, the elevator doors. They opened as they grew close, revealing the same blue as the one from Ozma's memory, and the two stepped out of the memory and into the white corridor.  
Together, they walked down the end of the row of memories, and Ozpin led Oscar to an empty space, hidden in the folds of the endless memories. There was no memory here, but Oscar felt the same boundary he had when he stood at the edge of a memory. Ozpin stopped, hesitating to step through.  
"It's okay." Oscar assured the older soul. "You don't have to come, not yet. I know you need time after what happened, and... So do I. I want time to be myself, to make my own decisions. But when you're ready to come back, I'm sure I'll be ready for you, too."  
Ozpin smiled. "You know, Oscar, you're pretty wise for someone so young." He remarked, lowering the mug he was still holding a bit. Oscar smiled.  
"I learned from the best." He said, throwing his arms around the headmaster. And in that moment, all the peace from the seemingly endless vault of memories seemed to be overrun with love. The kind of love he remembered feeling from his parents, and his aunt. Only this time, it was better, because it came from inside himself. And as he reluctantly pulled out of the embrace, he noticed the soft, grieving despair and regret had disappeared for a brief moment as well, replaced with this love and a sense to protect the ones he loved.  
For a moment, the two souls stared at each other with mutual understanding and respect. And then Ozpin nodded, and Oscar smiled bravely, and stepped through where the memory would be if there was one there. And he found himself back in the darkness, and it was no longer threatening. It felt safe, but it was less like a blanket now, and more like a hug. And Oscar knew, at least for that moment, that everything would be okay. And he realized he had always known, ever since he met Ozpin, that he wasn't alone, and that he could do this. No matter what was thrown this way, he would find a way to deal with it. It wouldn't have to be the way that Ozpin would do it, or Ozma, or anyone else. He could find his own unique way of doing things, and that's okay. Because sometimes, you just need a new perspective to get better results.  
As he pulled out of his meditation, he felt tired, but peaceful. Wiping a tear he hadn't realized he'd shed from his cheek, Oscar settled into his sleeping bag, curled up on his side, and closed his eyes, promptly falling asleep as the winds outside slowed. And as he drifted into a dreamless sleep, his conciousness fading away, deep inside his mind, Ozpin walked back to his memory, once again looking down below at the courtyard. But instead of feeling sad from the sight of team STRQ fooling around, he felt happiness, smiling fondly.  
"That boy is the best of us yet." He muttered.


End file.
